


Sacrifices

by hopefilledlies



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Human!Kiibo, I only tagged those with speaking roles, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Memory Loss, Virtual Reality, technically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 14:30:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18054266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopefilledlies/pseuds/hopefilledlies
Summary: The very existence of Kiibo made Kokichi Ouma frustrated, perhaps even angry.As soon as he laid eyes on him, he knew he didn’t belong.If only he knew the reason why.





	Sacrifices

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this in December, got to the end of the second section, didn’t touch it for two months then finished it in four days whoOps
> 
> Also this is technically canon compliant! I do go through a lot of in game events though, with direct quotes from the game, so it does contain spoilers.
> 
> In other news, I love these boys sm I just want them to be,,,happy

“...You shouldn’t have done it.”

“Well, it’s too late now!”

Kokichi hissed, grip tightening on his partner’s hand before he huffed and averted his gaze, disregarding the hair falling into his face. An uncomfortable silence drifted between the two.

“I know it was a bad idea, but I had to. You do realise you were dying, right Kiibo?”

His voice was lacking the tone so often associated with the trickster, but Kiibo was much too used to it, especially recently. The absence of a nickname almost stung the roboticist, even though he would never admit that he had grown fond of them.

Gloomy blue eyes, lacking their normal light, trailed down his pale body. Weak. He felt weak, laying in this bed with an IV in his practically unresponsive arm and a vital signs machine beeping quietly next to him.

“Please..” He began, voice quiet, and oh. He hadn't realised he had started crying. When had he started crying? “Don’t ever do something so reckless again. To give your life away to save mine-“

“They promised it wouldn’t be real. I won’t die for real. And they ensured you wouldn’t have a chance of dying, either.” Kokichi responded smoothly, masking any of his own doubts with confidence. “It was the only thing I could think of. Don’t try making me regret it, ‘cause I won’t. This is worth it.”

Kiibo was quiet, before turning his head away from Kokichi to hide the tears that began to stain his pillow. He slipped his hand out of the shorter’s.

Kokichi involuntarily winced as he checked the clock. Their last few minutes together before the big event - he didn’t want to leave Kiibo like this.

His heart ached. Ached from their current situation, still aching from the fear and anger and heartbreak when Kiibo had been at death’s door.

Their time was running out.

He got up from the chair he was slouched in, leaning over to press kisses on damp cheeks and earning a stifled sob in return.

“Ouma?”

His chest clenched and he wanted to scream. He wanted to shout and cry and stay here with the only person he had ever been able to fully open up to without shame.

Instead, he shared one last, long kiss with the albino. Glossy blue eyes met dry purple ones.

Kokichi Ouma was never one to shed real tears, after all. Not when someone was waiting at the doorway, watching.

“I love you.”

Kokichi pressed his lips together, before smiling down at Kiibo, breathing his reply.

“I love you too.”

Their time had run out.

______

Kokichi Ouma, the Ultimate Supreme Leader, woke up inside a locker.

Not exactly his ideal situation, especially considering a dull ache in the back of his skull, but he supposed he’d deal with it.

He opened the door to a classroom, squinting violet eyes as he tried to think back to when he was last in any sort of school setting like this one. All that got him was a mental sledgehammer to the head, and he cursed as pain rippled through him.

He decided to ignore thinking too much about what lead up to being here, despite really fucking wanting to, and instead noted that the amount of greenery in this small classroom suggested it had been abandoned.

The locker beside him rattled, and despite jumping at the sound, Kokichi naturally put on a face of confidence as the door of the locker beside him clanged open.

Out stumbled a very...odd looking guy, with platinum white hair and bright blue eyes. His clothes looked more like armour, and why were there lines on his face? Were those headphones on his ears, or did he just not have ears?

Kokichi was silent for a few moments, any prepared dialogue melting bitterly on the tip of his tongue. His new companion felt unsettlingly familiar. Like he could almost place a finger on it, yet it was also just strange enough to throw the leader off guard completely.

Something burned in Kokichi’s gut as the other noticed his presence, yelping in surprise and apologising for not noticing him sooner.

Why did he feel so bittersweet?

Why did he feel angry?

No.

Whoever this guy is, Kokichi could feel that he didn’t belong here.

He knew it.

And so, he did what he always did to defend himself.

He put up a mask.

______

“C’mon, let me touch your body a little! I’ve always wanted to be friends with a robot!”

The words, when dipped in a teasing lilt, felt comfortably familiar on his tongue.

______

Kiibo - K1-B0 , Ultimate Robot - didn’t know how he felt about Kokichi.

Robophobia was, unfortunately, common within these school grounds, whether intentional or not. But it was painstakingly obvious that the dictator purposefully tried to poke at him.

Kiibo decided to ignore the fact that the insults from Kokichi always seemed to hurt him a bit more than when it came from others. He always felt the need to prove himself, but that was illogical. He didn’t need to prove himself to anyone, especially not to a trickster like Kokichi Ouma.

Right?

Right. His inner voice often helped confirm these thoughts. Dwelling on the leader was unnecessary. There were much bigger things to worry about.

Still, now stood tensely in the Ultimate Entomologist’s lab with the threat of their motive videos being publicly shared, Kiibo decided to disregard his inner voice for a short moment.

He had to help the others. None of them wanted to be involved in this, and it was low of Kokichi to get Gonta to kidnap them anyway. It wasn’t, by any account, because he wanted to prove himself.

“With my talent, Kokichi, I will stop-”

“Yeah, yeah. I don’t have time to listen to some robot.”

Kokichi’s tone was dismissive, lazy as he cut Kiibo off. His determined sentence caught in his throat, and his shoulders slumped slightly in defeat as the other simply proceeded to rattle on.

He wasn’t hurt by the name calling and dismissal. That was ordinary, expected from him at this point.

He wasn’t, the inner voice echoed as he watched Kokichi skip out of the room with a bounce in his step and a calculative glimmer in his eye.

He wasn’t.

______

Kokichi felt disgusted as he entered the gym and caught a glimpse of the skeletal remains of what could only be Ryoma Hoshi.

He could tell everyone else was freaking out, but he was more focused on figuring out a plan of action. They would probably need to investigate the tank, and considering the time they had to investigate last time, draining it by hand would probably jeopardize the entire trial.

He voiced these thoughts, knowing everyone was listening but not exactly paying attention to the words in his mouth. Instead, violet eyes scanned the room, trying to figure out a way to break said tank.

His eyes landed on the robot across the room, not quite locking eyes as he was reminded that Kiibo angered him, even if he wasn’t sure why, and that he was supposedly heavy enough to break glass.

His lips twitched upwards into a lazy smirk, the movement feeling naturally unnatural as his sharp tongue ran away from him, instantly falling into his usual theatrics.

“Gonta, Kiiboy, you’re up!”

He couldn’t find it in himself to look Kiibo in the eye as he heard the robot protest in a feeble attempt to defend himself. His eyes still flitted up to lock with betrayed blue as he was manhandled. Kokichi still managed a half grin to cover his reputation.

He didn’t know why his heart twisted as Kiibo’s scream echoed around the walls, but he hated it. He almost hated it more than the sound of rushing water and the sight of bloodied water filling the gym.

Thinking back, why did he even feel so personally offended by Kiibo’s general existence? The base concept that he was a robot didn’t bother him all that much, so what was the problem? His inner voice schtick was suspicious, so perhaps it was that.

But anyway, Kokichi didn’t have the time to dwell for now. For now, they had a murder to solve.

He felt bile rise up his throat as he let his disgust show in an extravagant display of fake tears and dramatic words.

Maybe he just didn’t like Kiibo because he was weird.

Yeah, that’s it.

He was...weird.

He made a mental note to add that to his whiteboard.

______

The student council was a good idea, Kiibo was sure of it. He smiled as Angie addressed him and the rest of the members excitedly. They aimed to prevent murders, Atua accepted him wholeheartedly, his inner voice approved.

He was distracted from the odd situation he had regarding Kokichi. He had only spoken to him once today, and that was once again to mock him. Tease about how the student council might lead to another death instead.

Kiibo chose to ignore the entire exchange as Angie ended their gathering with a prayer.

______

Kokichi had to hold himself back from breathing “I told you so” as they stared down at Angie’s dead body.

______

Kiibo glanced around the chapel, admiring the graphic design and trying to spot anything that could possibly hint to being tied to the secret they were searching for. Even though he was slightly disappointed he had maintained a robotic body, he was happy that Miu had been kind enough to think of everyone and arrange this small escape from their current situation.

7 dead. This killing game made Kiibo wish he didn’t think in numbers.

He blinked as he focused on the sounds around him again, quietly hoping he hadn’t drifted in his thoughts and inner voice for too long to miss anything. He picked up on the hushed whispers nearby, eyes flickering to Kokichi and Miu. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

He didn’t necessarily mean to eavesdrop, of course not! But...he couldn’t help but feel like he heard the mention of a meet up between the two.

The mansion rooftop?

Kiibo decided not to try and analyse that, his inner voice clamoring for him to focus on the others. They were splitting the groups, he had to make sure he knew what they were doing!

Yet he couldn’t help but note the horrible feeling that clawed at his chest after overhearing the conversation. What was this? Guilt at his own eavesdropping? No, he was sure guilt left a different horrible feeling in his gut.

Anger? Of what? He had no right to dictate what both Miu and Kokichi choose to do with their free time. Why would it even bother him?

Jealousy? Was that what this feeling was?

Of whom could he be jealous? He wouldn’t say he hated Kokichi, not at all, but he didn’t exactly feel the urge to spend time with him. Miu was his friend, and though a bit foul mouthed, was pleasant company at times.

So surely he was jealous of Kokichi?

His inner voice agreed with this deduction, and he decided to trust it as he turned his focus to the task at hand. Investigation.

Kiibo ignored the uncomfortable feeling that faintly told him his deduction was wrong.

______

“You’re really useful.”

His hum bounced around the room as he looked up at Shuichi through thick, digital lashes. His tone screamed compliment, and his smile was coy.

“So why don’t you stop hanging out with dumb ol’ Kaito and be my friend instead?”

Kokichi cocked his head, eyes glimmering mischievously as he decided to bring his flirting to its peak.

It was bad of him, to hyperfocus on the detective because he didn’t want to think about Kiibo, because that robot made him feel so off all the time, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

He watched Shuichi disappear as he logged out, smile falling just slightly.

He knew he would be rejected and pushed away anyway, so why would using him as an easy distraction matter?

______

The elevator was silent except for quiet shared breaths and the rumble of movement.

Kokichi stood, eyes on the floor with thumbs tucked loosely in his pockets and hair in his eyes. He kept his breaths even and face neutral, letting himself fall to a clean slate for a short moment.

He felt a burning hatred for himself, knowing what he had done. He knew it was for the best. He knew manipulating Gonta to kill would help him down the road - help the _others_ down the road - but it only made him feel selfish and shitty in the current moment.

Speaking of which, this would have to be the trial where he kicked everything up a notch. Upgrade from a nuisance to a thorn. From a trickster to a villain. Kokichi was assured that his practised lying would allow him to keep the transition smooth and believable. After all, it wasn’t like any of the others in this elevator liked him much anyway, especially if he took Gonta out of the equation.

That fact didn’t matter to him. He didn’t mind not being liked.

He didn’t.

His plan was finally coming to a head, and the leader was at least glad it went as smoothly as it has so far.

He ran through his plan for this trial in his head, fidgeting with his belt absentmindedly as he mouthed his only reassurance, over and over.

This is worth it.

The elevator doors slid open, and he silently, seamlessly slipped his mask back on.

______

“You’re alone, Kokichi. And you always will be.”

Kiibo bit back his strange desire to deny the claim as he tried to convince Kaito to let them help him.

It was true, after all, wasn’t it?

______

Kiibo sat alone in his dorm room.

He felt extremely conflicted as he fidgeted with the stack of books he kept at his desk, for night reading. The fourth trial was over, and fewer and fewer of them remained. Miu was dead. Strangled by toilet paper - he could only imagine how horrible of a way that is to go.

His throat felt tight all of a sudden, despite not breathing, and he reached his hand up to gently place it over his neck as he tilted his head back, looking up at the ceiling.

Gonta was dead. Naive, innocent Gonta, he wanted nothing more to protect them. Tricked or convinced, he had ended up as a murderer. It was sickeningly ironic.

Kokichi.

Kiibo closed his eyes, furrowing his eyebrows. This was where his conflicted emotions arose. It wasn’t new that Kokichi was troublesome and two faced, yet this trial was different. He had a complete outburst, and his words could only be associated as sociopathic.

‘The more you suffer, the more I enjoy it.’

Kiibo naturally felt more wary about Kokichi, deciding he was dangerous, as well as not trustworthy. His inner voice agreed quietly with this idea through the gentle buzz of static.

Yet something deep within him didn’t want to believe that the leader was as malicious as he came off as. Kiibo didn’t understand it. He didn’t, he didn’t-

He flipped through the book closest to him, eyes lazily scanning the pages.

Illogical. That was illogical. There was no reason for him to hold sympathy for Kokichi, especially considering his prior behaviour solely based on his robotic status.

In the room next door, Kokichi let out a breathless, hysterical laugh as he finally found the electrobombs he had hidden under a pile of cardboard boxes, slim pale fingers contrasting with bright pink as they curled around one.

______

“Anyway, I gotta confess. The cult I mentioned earlier? The leader...is me.”

The words fell like water from his lips, free and easy. Each note carried amusement and ill intent, perfected from hours of screaming his speech into his empty dorm room, eternally grateful that the rooms were soundproof.

“Which means…” He sang, grinning as he felt his very soul recoil in disgust at the words that he knew were slowly crawling their way up his throat. Kokichi watched as, individually, each of his classmates’ eyes filled with understanding and slight shock. “The mastermind who snuck Monokuma onto the Ark is…”

He paused, partly for dramatic effect and mostly to quickly gather himself, to make sure his performance was flawless. He had put so much work into this plan, sacrificed lives for this plan, he couldn’t trip in the gate.

His lips curled in a way he didn’t think was possible until he tried pulling it off, a smile crazed and excited. The emotion didn’t quite reach his eyes, but it wasn’t obvious enough to be detected by the others. They were too busy processing everything anyway.

He threw his arms out to the side, giggling manically as he pushed himself onto his toes, making himself appear taller. Make himself seem taller and larger. An intimidation tactic.

“Me!”

Kokichi leaned forward, watching once hopeful expressions begin to crumble. He cackled mockingly, gaze flitting to each of his classmates. He hid a wince as it landed on Shuichi.

His heart skipped a beat, in the horrible, punishing way when it next moved onto Kiibo. His chest felt tight, and his breath hitched for a moment as he took in the utter hopelessness of his face.

“Kokichi, you’re the mastermind?”

The disbelief and betrayal that the robot somehow managed to portray in such simple words made him want to curl into a hole and hide away from everyone.

Instead, Kokichi turned his attention away and continued to recite his speech, covering his sudden stab of guilt with twisted joy as he flashed Kaito a sharp grin, noticing the remaining fire in his eyes.

Ah, sadly the job description called for him to crush that.

______

“Kokichi?”

He called, determined but equally hesitant as he stood a fair distance away from the hangar entrance. Kiibo’s expression scrunched up at the lack of response, staring at the barrier in front of the door with slight hatred.

Perhaps Kokichi was ignoring him. He expected the treatment, but he continued to talk anyway, because the idea of being ignored stung more than he would have liked.

“May you please release Kaito peacefully? If not, we shall be forced to use more violent means to rescue him!”

Silence. Kiibo felt himself begin to twitch nervously, but his gaze was unmoving as he changed tactics, moving closer to the entrance. He raised his voice.

“Kaito? Are you in there?”

The following lack of response only unsettled him. It was understandable, expected from Kokichi, but from Kaito?

His tone hardened, stronger yet slightly more desperate.

“Kokichi! If you are in there, I wish to talk to you!”

He continued to call and coax, to what he assumed to be both occupants of the hangar. However, after getting no response from all efforts, he begrudgingly gave up, choosing to go back to his room.

He supposed that with his pleading being a fruitless endeavour, he should prepare for a rescue mission.

Kokichi, leaning against the hangar wall, let out a long sigh of relief as he faintly heard shifting and the sound of heavy, metallic footfalls moving away.

______

Kokichi Ouma was not afraid of death.

Life always seemed like a better option, of course, but in general, the topic was always fairly fickle in his eyes.

Yet, as he stared up at the hydraulic press, veins burning with poison, wounds aching as he felt the uncomfortable stickiness of blood against his skin and vision blurring as death hung over him, he had a sudden, striking realisation.

Kokichi Ouma was very, very afraid of death.

People usually reflected on their life just before they died, right? Well, he had a hundred and one regrets that composed his existence, and he wasn’t sure he felt like wading through them in the final seconds of his life.

He bit his lip lightly as dull violet eyes flitted to the control panel. Kaito was getting into position. The leader smiled weakly, turning his gaze back to what was above him. His mind began to count down.

Three.

He really fucking hoped Kaito would be able to pull the rest of his plan off.

Two.

...He’ll miss everyone, maybe.

That’s a lie.

Of course he will. They were still his classmates, despite everything.

One.

The press came to life.

He’ll miss Kii-

______

Blood dripped down the side of the hydraulic press and Kaito’s tense shoulders slumped as he averted his gaze.

______

Kokichi Ouma woke up, in both the literal and figurative sense.

As soon as his consciousness returned, his memories suddenly hit him like a truck.

Kiibo. The trials. Gonta. His plans. Shuichi, Kaito, Miu-

His death.

His body still ached with phantom pains, and he found it hard to move at all for the first few hours, as if he really had been crushed. Of course, with his memories back and in tact, he was fully aware it was all virtual reality.

Fake. Fiction.

It was surreal, remembering the events from when he couldn’t remember.

But everything clicked - he was never angry at Kiibo himself. Rather, the fact Kiibo was in the game.

His anger builded the more he dwelled on it, yet he played along with health checks and stupid questions from Team Danganronpa as he assessed his current situation. Stuck in a hospital bed.

He was eventually cleared and allowed to wander around the participant recovery floor of this godforsaken building, but it totally took too much time, in his opinion.

Kokichi rather unwillingly met with the rest of his ‘deceased’ classmates, the classmates he had never met prior all this, absolutely prepared for them to hate him, but they all seemed fairly alright with his existence.

He teased Miu for managing to die a virtual-ception death. She huffed, hissing at him through her teeth to shut the fuck up. For once, he complied, if only to get to Gonta and quietly apologise.

The warmth of the hug he received from the other was almost enough to make him cry, but he didn’t. He didn’t shed real tears, not in front of people.

______

Kiibo lightly gripped his podium as it rose upwards. His eyes flitted downwards, observing the Exisal from above.

He couldn’t help but think it was Kaito in there, not Kokichi. Yet, the idea of Kokichi being dead upset him immensely, even more so than the idea of Kaito under the press. Why was that?

His podium clicked back into place, and he returned his attention to the debate, ready to throw out the first topic.

“I suspect Kaito is the one in the Exisal!”

______

He moved on instinct. Not because his inner voice encouraged it - there was no time to consult it as the spaceship crashed down.

Kiibo threw himself in front of the others protectively, arms out but instinctively curling away slightly once debris started to fly. He was pushed back further, stumbling to keep his ground as he felt debris hit him, and his eyes widened as he let out a gasp.

All of a sudden, his head was silent. No static, no quiet murmurs, just his thoughts echoing.

The hurt and pain he felt from losing two more classmates suddenly flared, and just the thought of Kokichi struggling into the press with poison slowing him made another wave of grief crash down on the robot.

It didn’t take long for an idea to surface, determined and burning bright in his mind.

He had to avenge both of them.

Kaito and Kokichi.

He had to avenge Kokichi.

______

Kokichi stared down at his sleeping face, sighing heavily. “They work fast, huh?”

Kiibo didn’t answer him, but he didn’t expect him to, considering he was still hooked up to their weird virtual reality machines.

He pouted lightly, moving to hold his newly installed prosthetic hand. It was oddly warm, matching the warmth of Kiibo’s remaining organic arm. He rubbed his thumb against the side of the new hand, soothing motions despite knowing his boyfriend wasn’t aware of them.

Violet eyes softened as he relaxed into the chair, stiff and uncomfortable, which really didn’t help with his aching limbs but goddamnit, he refused to leave Kiibo alone. He was waiting right here by his side until he woke up.

Kokichi was close to falling asleep when the door opened slowly, and he turned to openly glare at whichever poor staff member was sent to try and coax him away from Kiibo.

He stopped in his tracks when he recognised the face, breath hitching. He straightened in his seat, fingers slipping through his partner’s.

“Hey.” The newcomer started, somewhat awkwardly as he moved into the room.

“Kaito.” He acknowledged, tone shifting. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to act, caught off guard. He didn’t expect most people to approach him, least of all Kaito. “Our plan failed, huh?”

Kaito rubbed the back of his neck with a small nod. “Yeah, Shuichi saw right through it.” Kokichi snorted lightly. Of course he did. He knew Shuichi was the biggest threat to his plan. Ah well, it didn’t matter much now.

Kaito paused before taking a seat in the extra chair beside the shorter. Kokichi’s glanced over at him for a moment, but didn’t tell him to leave.

“So you volunteered for him, huh? I wouldn’t have guessed that.” The murmur drifted between them for a moment, before Kokichi decided to take the bait, giving a small laugh.

“Y’know, when I was in there I wouldn’t have guessed either.” The conversation felt strained to him, awkward, yet he still leaned back in his chair. “What about you? You volunteer for someone too?”

It was fairly obvious he did volunteer for someone else’s sake. Kokichi, upon doing a bit of prying, came to the quick conclusion that everyone in the current killing game had volunteered for a favour, like him.

It wasn’t surprising, he supposed. Team Danganronpa was known for being technologically advanced, and open to helping anyone for free in exchange for a participant in their next killing game.

It made him sick, but that had been the main reason he had headed here when Kiibo had been bleeding out.

“My grandpa.” Kaito huffed, glancing away as he folded his hands in front of his chest. “He’s gotten really sick recently, and I know my grandma wouldn’t be able to cope without him. Plus he wants to see me get on the astronaut trainee programme!” A pause, before a chuckle. “For real, not just in some simulation.”

Kokichi shot him a half grin. “You’re not much different out of the game, huh?” He was almost surprised when Kaito returned the smile.

“Well, yeah! I was just being myself.” He propped his elbow up on his knee, resting his chin lazily on his palm. “You’re different though. Less crazy.”

Kokichi laughed, a real laugh, at that, throwing the other a smirk. “Oh, don’t get your hopes up, Momota. I’m still just as much of a liar out here as I was in there.”

The other groaned loudly, looking away despite the way his lips remained curled upwards. “Hey, have you been using the screens?”

Kokichi squinted one eye, eyebrows furrowed. The staff had given him a device similar to a tablet when he had first woken up, but he hadn’t checked it once. He decided to counter with a question of his own. “Why do you ask?”

Kaito shrugged casually as he got to his feet again. “I mean, it’s about Kiibo, so I thought you’d like a reminder. Apparently things have been heating up since I died.”

______

Kiibo couldn’t help feeling just a bit anxious as he flew up. It was for the best, and the outside world wanted it. They had reached the ending they wanted. There would be no more killing games from now on.

But as he charged up his gun and started shooting the academy to the ground, he couldn’t help but wonder whether there was anything after he self-destructs.

What happened to robots when they die?

He kept his eyes out for the others - Himiko, Maki and Shuichi - making sure to shoot around them and keep them safe. Not just because his inner voice echoed to save them, but mostly because he didn’t want to see them die himself.

He hovered, looking out over the ruined Ultimate Academy for Gifted Juveniles, and smiled, taking the opportunity to compose himself.

Kiibo would be lying if he said he didn’t wish to be able to see everyone again once he died.

He pressed the button, and took off.

______

Glass rained down.

______

Kokichi knew it wasn’t real, but he still felt grief, and anger burst dully in his chest as the tablet screen flashed images of smoke and debris before turning black.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and giggled, blinking back unneeded tears. Kiibo had done it.

He’d ended the killing game.

He drifted his attention to the real Kiibo, still asleep on the bed beside him.

Now it was just a waiting game, which was awfully unfortunate.

He hated waiting.

______

“...I told you not to trade your life away.”

“Yeah, well I told you not to sacrifice yourself for me ages ago, and guess who had to do just that - more than once - and land us in this mess?”

“I couldn’t just let you go into a killing game alone!”

“Why not? We both know it’s fake!”

A tense silence settled between them, before Kokichi finally sighed, sitting down and lacing their fingers together.

“You’re so stubborn.” Kiibo murmured sadly as he clearly let the topic go, and Kokichi relaxed, letting out a light laugh. He watched Kiibo’s lips curl upwards softly.

“Now that’s obvious. Tell me something I don’t know, Kiibabe.” He teased, squeezing his hand. “How are you feeling? I remember feeling super bad after getting squished, and getting exploded sounds like it might hurt, even for a robot.”

“I’m alright. A bit sore, but it was much worse earlier.” The other insisted with a small smile, enjoying the casual joking laced with concern. It was so familiar, and it comforted him. Though… “Did you mean everything you said in there? About...me being a robot?”

Kokichi blinked, taking a moment to process the question before realising where Kiibo’s concerns lay. He was a little more robot now than he was before all this. “I couldn’t remember you, y’know? So no, I didn’t. It’s more like I lashed out because you felt uncanny to me. Like déjà vu or something.”

He shifted, so he could lean over and rest his head on Kiibo’s chest, feeling the rise and fall of his chest. He felt his boyfriend’s hand come to run through his hair. “I would never say such mean things to my Kiiboy.” Kokichi finished matter-of-factly, and he heard the taller groan.

“I can’t believe that out of everything, it’s the ridiculous nicknames that persisted.” Kiibo mused in mild annoyance, and Kokichi snickered into his chest, watching him through his bangs.

“You’ll never escape them, hun!” He chittered happily, sitting back up and waving his hands in a shooing motion. “Now budge up! There’s been enough sentimental crap, I’m tired and I wanna cuddle.”

Kiibo rolled his eyes, but did as instructed and watched as Kokichi shimmied into the small hospital bed beside him. The shorter carefully wrapped his arms around his partner, burying his face in his shoulder as he tangled their legs together. Kiibo’s cheeks flushed lightly, but he smiled fondly and returned the affection by gently shifting onto his side, making sure the position was comfortable before wrapping his arms around Kokichi in return.

“I love you.” He whispered, and his tone reflected the honesty in his statement. Kokichi tilted his head up to glance up at his face, before leaning up to press a kiss to his lips.

He pulled back with a lazy grin.

“I love you too.”


End file.
